


Tripping into Happiness

by kickcows



Series: Happiness Series [2]
Category: Kuroshitsuji | Black Butler
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Fluff and Smut, M/M, Sexual Content
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-06-22
Updated: 2018-02-26
Packaged: 2018-11-17 08:52:24
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 9,407
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11272113
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kickcows/pseuds/kickcows
Summary: Charles Grey has a strict policy - never date anyone that isn't clean-cut, and believes in the same ideals as him. A visit to the Weston Way shatters this policy in the blink of an eye.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [misomilk](https://archiveofourown.org/users/misomilk/gifts).



> This story is set in the same universe as my story 'Falling into Happiness'. I've chosen to put it as its own story, rather than put it with 'Falling' due to the character POV. 
> 
> Gifting this to my other half, who is the one that fell in love with this ship, and because of her - so have I. :) Please enjoy! 
> 
> Prompt - 'Don't tempt me.'

* * *

***

Growing up, Charles always swore that he would only date a certain type of person; clean-cut, flawless skin, respectable profession. He kept this ideal all the way through college, dating a myriad of frat boys that would go to graduate in the top ten percentile, just like his best friend and himself. Throw in a few girls too, but only because he wanted to make sure that it wasn’t just a ‘phase’ that he fancied men more than women. He went into the workforce, and found himself gravitating towards powerful businessmen, all who he was more than happy to bottom for. So, imagine his surprise when he walks into the shop that his best friend’s lover owns, and sees a man behind the counter that he knows is not someone he would ever look twice at, but as soon as he sees his golden eyes lined with black eyeliner, his heart stops in his chest.

“Charles?” His best friend looks over at him, wearing a concerned expression on his face. “Are you alright?”

Pale white hair frames this man’s face, his asymmetrical haircut is one that he would normally cringe at. But on this man’s face, it suits him. Charles sees small plugs in his earlobes, and a few cartilage piercings, and glancing downwards, he can see tattoos poking up from under the collar of his tight black t-shirt. Those aren’t the only ones, though. He sees that he has what looks like different types of snakes coiling up both of his forearms - a white one on his right forearm, and what looks like a milk snake on his left forearm. There’s chipped black nail polish on his fingers, which looks like gets repainted on, rather than a fresh manicure. A studded black belt sits at his waist, holding up what has to be the _tightest_  pair of leather pants Charles has seen on a human - male or female. Even though this man is behind the counter, he can see the top of his boots, which hug his thighs. Bracelets jangle on his wrists, as he takes money from a customer purchasing a bouquet, and he can see that the man’s tongue is split. What. The. Fuck.

He looks at his best friend, and gives him a nod. “Yeah, I’m fine. Look, are you going to go find your boyfriend?” He looks at his watch, afraid of looking back up because he wants to look at that man again.

“Yes, I’m going to go check the back.” His best friend, also named Charles, fixes his tie, and heads over to the counter. He sees him speak to a cute girl, who giggles and nods her head, nodding her head back towards the door which he assumes leads to the back of the shop. Leaving him to fend for himself.

The shop has quite a few customers in it, more than he imagined. His best friend has been dating this shop’s owner for only a few weeks, but he knows he’s been coming here quite frequently. Only at the insistence of him did Charles manage to finally get up the nerve to ask this Finny guy out. He touches one of the bouquets, impressed by how beautiful the blooms are. He steps to the side, and finds himself standing in front of the man who had been behind the counter when they walked in.

“May I help you find something?” The voice that comes out of this man’s throat makes Charles want to fall to the floor and weep. No one should have such a beautiful voice, when their skin is all tatted up, and pierced with multiple holes.

Pushing his bangs off of his face, he feels himself start to fidget a little. “No, I’m great. I don’t need any of _your_  help, thanks.”

“If you decide to change your mind, I will be over by the register.” The man gives a little salute with his fingers, then turns and heads back towards the register. Charles watches him walk away, eyes lingering a little too long on how the man’s ass seems to scream at him.

Since Charles doesn’t seem to be returning yet, he decides to walk over to the register. Or rather, his feet just decide to take him there, his brain finally catching up when he’s standing right in front of this strange man. “Do you work here?” He blurts out, the question sounding as ridiculous as he feels for asking such a stupid question.

“When it’s slow at my shop,” the man pushes his hair behind his ears, revealing all the piercings to him that he noticed before. “Finnian is a close friend of mine.”

“I’m close with Charles.” What the hell? Why did he just say that?

A smile appears on the man’s face. “Oh? Finnian’s quite taken with your friend.” He leans over the counter, Charles following his lead and leans over to be close to where he is. He ignores how _good_  the man smells, whatever cologne he has on doing things to him. Or maybe it was all of him that was doing this. He bites his lip, as he feels the warm breath of this complete stranger against his ear. “I think Finny might actually _love_  him.” The man whispers conspiratorially.

Charles bursts out laughing, then quickly covers his mouth in embarrassment. The man stands up straight, a smirk on his face. He tries to calm himself down, but fails miserably, his heart still beating too fast. “If you own your own place, why aren’t you there?” He asks, the question he should have asked before his stupid reply about his best friend.

“My shop usually stays open really late, so I head over there when this shop closes up.” He helps out a customer that comes up, leaving Charles to wonder what the hell sort of shop does he own that would keep such absurd hours. When the customer leaves, this man leans over on the counter, his elbows balancing on the counter, head now sitting on his palms that rest just beneath his chin. “Don’t you want to know what sort of shop I own, Mr…?”

“Charles,” he tries not to stutter, but it’s difficult. Oh, lord, is it difficult.

“Mr. Charles? That’s your last name?” The man chuckles low, the sound making Charles’ cheeks become flushed. “What’s your first name?”

He shakes his head. “No, my first name is Charles. My last name is Grey. And please, don’t ever call me Mr. Grey.” He tries to keep the groan out of his voice, but it doesn’t go unnoticed by this man, who gifts him with another low laugh.

“You must really hate E L James.” The man extends his hand out, palm up. “Pleased to make your acquaintance. I’m Snake.”

“That’s your name??” He reaches for the man’s hand. When their palms touch, he feels a jolt go through his body. _Fuck_.

There’s a playful smile on Snake’s face. “I used to have another name, but I didn’t like it that much. So, I had it legally changed to be Snake.”

“ _Just_  Snake? No surname?” He still can’t wrap his mind around his concept. “Are you like Cher?”

A full blown laugh leaves Snake’s mouth, as he pushes his hair back with his hand. “I suppose I would be. Or like…. Madonna.”

“Shakira.”

“Beyonce.”

“Seal.”

A rose appears in front of his face, Snake holding it out to him. “I was hoping you’d say his name.”

“W-What’s this for?” He stutters out, face no doubt beet red.

The petals touch his cheek, before sliding towards his lips, then into his hand. “Now you can say you’ve been kissed by a rose.”

“Oh my god.” He laughs, taking the rose from Snake. “Did you just…?”

White bangs seem to fall on his face, but a few strands stick up in the most adorable cowlick. “I’m afraid that I did.”

“You’re too much.” He shakes his head, holding onto the rose with a tight fist. “I thought you were going to ask me for a kiss.”

Snake leans over the counter, and speaks softly into his ear. “Don’t tempt me.”

The door to the back swings open, a flustered Charles stepping away from the counter when he sees his best friend walking over to him, a flushed look on his face. “Sorry to take so long, Charles,” he says. “I was helping Finnian out with some items that were a bit out of his reach in the back storage room.”

“R-Right.” He nods, then looks at Snake. “Thanks for this.” He holds up the orange rose.

Finnian walks out, a large smile on his face. Snake looks over at him, then back at Charles. “Don’t you want to know where my shop is?”

He starts to walk towards the door, as Charles has already made his way out of the shop. “Does it matter?”

“It’s the tattoo parlor down the block. Joker’s Circus.” Snake gives a small wave of his hand. “Hope to see you again, Mr. Charles.”

Giving a sharp nod of his head, he heads outside, and sees Charles is getting into the car. “What the hell took you so long??” He asks, getting settled into the passenger seat. “I had to make small talk with that…. That freak.”

“Freak…?” His best friend turns the car on, and gives him a strange look.

“You know, that Snake guy.” He sets the rose on his lap, being as careful as he can so that he doesn’t bruise the petals.

“Oh, right. He’s nice, Charles. Don’t judge him just because of his tattoos and piercings.” They make their way towards where he’s left his car. “Not all people that are like that are bad people.”

Acutely aware of how this isn’t the case with this person, he can’t help but cling to the thought that he wants to be with someone who is cleancut and normal looking. “He’s got snakes tattooed on his _arms_ , Charles. Snakes!”

“And he goes by the name of Snake? So?” They arrive at Charles’ work. “Anyway, thank you for tolerating your time with him. I’m sorry it took so long.”

“No, you’re not.” He unbuckles his seatbelt. “I know you two were probably fooling around back there.”

There’s a sly smile on his best friend’s face. “I won’t admit or deny that statement.”

“Gross, Charles.” He shakes his head, and gets out of the car. “So, are we on for dinner next week? Drinks? Both?”

“Both sound doable. I’ll let you know.”

“Got it.”

He slams the door shut, then walks over to where his car is parked. He sets the rose down on the passenger seat, and starts his car. He hits his head on the steering wheel, lips still tingling where the petals of the rose had touched him. He turns on the radio, and the dulcet sounds of Seal emit from the car’s speakers.

“Are you fucking kidding me?!” He shouts to no one. Groaning, he buckles in and heads back to his apartment, trying to not freak out at the strange coincidence.

When he gets home, he puts the rose into a bud vase, filling it up two-thirds of the way with room temperature water. His best friend had taught him that trick, which had been told to him by the florist he was in a relationship with. Untying his tie, he unbuttons the top button of his shirt, and goes to sit down at his desk, which he wakes up from its sleeping state, and launches the Chrome browser. He starts to type in ‘Joker’s Cir-’, Google autocompleting it to ‘Joker’s Circus’, which he hits enter for.

The shop comes up at the top of the page, and then on Yelp and FourSquare. He sees that on Yelp, the parlor has multiple five star reviews, as well as quite a few glowing reviews. He opens one up, and sees that it’s about a man named ‘Dagger’. “Dagger’s hand is the steadiest I’ve ever seen, and his artwork is sublime! Check out this ink I got from him four years ago! Still looks fresh! Five stars! Joker’s Circus is the BEST.”

After the tenth review, Charles finds one about the owner. “Snake has a gift for intricate tattoos. Not only is he a great artist, but is a master at piercing. Got my Prince Albert done by him, and my girl got her clit hood pierced too! Sex has never been better!” His face burns as he reads the review, wondering just how many genitalia that man has seen, if this review is any indication of the kind of work he does. Shaking his head, he finds another one about him, and this one is accompanied by a full back tattoo of a highly detailed tree. “I walked into Joker’s Circus knowing I had a certain idea what I wanted, explained it to the owner Snake, and he was able to come up with this design on the spot. I could not be happier with it, and the price was out of this world. Joker’s Circus is the real deal.”

He’s never set foot in a tattoo parlor. He doesn’t know what sort of people frequent a tattoo parlor, but it can’t be good. Hooligans. They must all be delinquents and hooligans. Quickly closing the Yelp page, he sees the actual webpage for the shop. The layout was rather nice - it reminded him of an actual circus, the background a large big-top tent. There’s a list of the artists on one side, which links to their portfolio. He clicks on Snake’s, and sees quite a few different type of pieces in his repertoire. The fact that he does each one so well meant that he really knows his craft - as he would expect an owner to be like.

His mouse clicks on the x at the right corner of the tab, closing the window. No, he won’t be setting foot in that shop. If he goes with Charles to see his precious Finnian, he’ll just hope that maybe it will be a slow night for Snake, so he’ll be helping out there. Pushing away from his desk, he gets up and grabs a beer from the fridge. His eyes go to the orange rose, as he takes a swig from the beer.

Maybe he’ll see if Charles wants to go see Finnian again the day after tomorrow. Can’t seem too eager to see this strange man again so soon.

At least, that’s what he tells himself.

***

Purple neon outlines white lights, Charles standing underneath the sign for the tattoo parlor ‘Joker’s Circus’. His best friend was too busy for the rest of the week, so he finds himself standing in front of this tattoo parlor on Friday night, because he can’t take it anymore. He wants to see Snake again. Besides, he had told him where he worked, so it would seem that the man wants to see him again. He hopes that’s the case, because really, he has no desire to be in this establishment.

Blue jeans cover his legs, a white button up shirt is on his chest, sleeves rolled up on his forearms. He’s got a grey vest on, which he decided not to button up at the last minute, and black and white Chucks on his feet. With a deep breath, he pushes the door open, and walks into the tattoo parlor.

“Evening, sir!” A voluptuous woman stands at a long counter, filled with different types of piercing jewelry. “Do you have an appointment?”

He shakes his head, feeling like a complete idiot. “I do not. I was hoping to see the owner?”

“Snake?” She asks, breasts jiggling in her tight bodice. “He’s currently piercing someone at the moment. Would you like to wait?” She looks down at the appointment book. “Looks like his next client isn’t for another hour.”

Looking around, he sees a bench. “Yeah, okay. Thanks.” He goes and sits down, feeling like he’s going to vomit. He can hear the noise of the tattoo guns being used, four out of the five chairs occupied right now. He sees a girl getting a tattoo on her lower back, another girl getting a tattoo on her ankle, a big burly man getting a tattoo around his bicep, and another man getting a tattoo on his shoulder. He wonders just what the person Snake is working on is getting. He really hopes it’s not a genital piercing.

Ten minutes pass, and a young girl walks out from a room that’s kept private by a black curtain hanging over it. She’s got on a midriff, and Charles can see that she has a belly button ring, which looks brand new, as her skin is irritated around it. Snake follows her out, and stands with her at the register, going over instructions on how to clean it, take care of it, and that if she ever wants to change it and doesn’t feel comfortable doing it on her own, to come back to him and he’ll do it for 5 quid. Her flirtatious behavior makes Charles start to feel something akin to jealousy. His eyes narrow, as she tosses her head back with laughter, Snake rubbing his hand on hers. She pays for her piercing, then slips what looks like a 50 pound note into his pants pocket. He can feel his blood boiling, watching this gratuitous exchange. When she leaves, he sees Snake’s entire demeanor change, the charisma that he had just been exuding disappearing almost completely.

“Oh, Snake?” The woman with the big tits says to him, as he starts to walk away.

“What is it, Beast?” Beast? First Snake, then Dagger, now Beast? What the hell? Does anyone have a normal name in this shop?

“There’s a man here to see you.” She nods her head towards where he’s sitting.

The owner of the tattoo parlor turns around, and the smile that appears on his face makes Charles feel like melting into the floor. What the hell? How is that even possible? Snake walks over to him, a large smile on his face. “Well, well, well. If it isn’t Mr. Charles.”

He quickly stands up, feeling more nervous than he’s felt in his entire life. “You remember.”

“How could I forget the man who has been on my mind since we met a few nights ago?” Golden eyes stare into his, making him move forward without thinking. As if Snake has put him under a spell, and his body is obeying just what this man wants. “I’ve been wondering when you’d walk through my door.”

Blushing, he gives a shrug of his shoulders, his voice stuck in his throat. A hand touches his, and he’s pulled behind the counter. “W-Where are we going?”

“My office.” Snake says, then looks over at the woman he called Beast. “If my appointment arrives early, just tell her I’ll be with her soon.”

“You got it, Snake.” She nods her head, then turns back to the computer that doubles as a register.

Charles follows him, as they walk up a short flight of stairs, and head into a room that’s covered in framed artwork, with papers upon papers piled up on the man’s desk. He walks over to the chair that’s by the desk, and takes a seat, as Snake closes the door, giving the two of them privacy. He pushes his hair back, his mouth going dry as he takes in Snakes’ appearance.

Unlike the night he met him, tonight Snake has on a black button up shirt, sleeves rolled up just like his own are, showing off the two snakes on his forearms. Black jeans cover his legs, and instead of those boots he had seen him wearing, he’s got on a pair of black trainers. He takes a seat on the edge of the desk, crossing his arms over his chest, a smile on his face.

“I am rather happy that you’re here, Charles. I wasn’t lying when I said I’ve been thinking about you.”

He doesn’t know what to say. “I hope not while you’re piercing someone’s dick.” He blurts out, before covering his mouth in horror.

“I see you’ve done your research.” Snake’s loud laughter makes him feel lightheaded. “No, I’ve done no piercings like that this week.”

“I couldn’t help it,” he admits. “I looked up your shop the moment I got home.” More truths roll off of his tongue, his eyes widening at his honesty.

A smirk appears on the man’s face. “Is that so?” He leans back on the desk, crossing his feet at his ankles. “I’m glad that I made such an impression on you.”

“I don’t know why I’m here.” Charles meets his golden eyes, feeling that pull return. “I just… I wanted to see you again.”

Snake pushes himself off of his desk, and straddles Charles’ lap. No one has ever done something so brazen to him, and it catches him off guard, as he leans back against the chair he’s sitting on, looking up into the man’s liner-lined eyes. “Tell me, Mr. Charles,” Snake speaks in a quiet voice, “have you ever kissed someone with a split tongue before?”

“No,” he whispers, heart accelerating at an abnormal rate.

Hands touch his shoulder, as Snake begins to lean towards him. One eyebrow raises up, as the tongue in question licks Snake’s bottom lip. “Would you like to…?”

“ _Fuck_.”

He couldn’t remember the actual word to answer Snake’s question, but it seemed that the man understood him perfectly. Closing his eyes, he parts his lips, and feels Snake’s lips touch his. The press of Snake’s lips against his feels like what the music artists sing about kisses. No fireworks, but it just feels….right. He groans, slowly parting his lips for him, wanting to know just what it will feel like. He feels Snake’s tongue push through the small opening, and then, his brain shuts down.

The split tongue rubs against his first, then teases the top of his tongue with each pointed edge. He’s moaning, hands going to Snake’s waist to anchor himself to this reality, afraid that if he touches anywhere else, it will wake him up from this dream. His jaw drops, exchanging his breath with Snake as their tongues keep caressing one another, Snake’s split tongue feeling like a gift from heaven. They get so lost in their kisses, that they lose track of time, only becoming aware of it when there’s a knock on the door.

“Snake? It’s 10:30. Your client is downstairs.” Beast’s voice comes through the door.

Their kiss ends abruptly, Charles’ lips gravitating towards Snake’s throat, touching the raised skin at the base of his throat. “Thank you, Beast. I’ll be right down.” His voice comes out sounding more normal than Charles expects it to.

“Okay, thanks!” She replies, and then the sound of feet on the staircase let them know she’s gone.

Charles pulls away, and looks up. “I don’t want to say goodbye.”

“I don’t either.” Snake leans forward, and presses another kiss to his lips. “Go out with me on Monday night?”

Staring into his eyes, he nods his head. “Yes. I want to. What’s your number?”

Snake gives it to him, Charles putting it into his phone as it’s told to him. “Text me your address. I’ll come pick you up,” Snake starts to slide off of his lap.

He grabs onto his waist, and pulls him back towards him, lips connecting with a rushed kiss, tongues touching in a wild manner. The two frot against one another a few times, Snake just as aroused as he is, before he tears his mouth away from him. “Please tell me you don’t ride a motorcycle.”

“And if I do?” Snake slips off of his lap, adjusting himself. Charles licks his kiss swollen lips, groaning low at the small action. “Are you not going to ride with me?”

“I didn’t say that.”

“Don’t worry - I drive a car.” Snake teases him, a smile on his face. “Text me your address. I’ll see you on Monday.”

He stands up, and walks over to the door. He gives Snake another quick kiss before leaving the office. “See you on Monday.” He walks down the stairs, and then walks through the shop, heading outside.

When he gets home, he collapses on his bed, and sends a text to him. “ _Here’s my address. 1889 Victoria Street. All I can feel is your tongue in my mouth_.”

“ _All I can feel is how your cock felt rubbing against mine. Sweet dreams, Mr. Charles. See you on Monday_.”

He stares at the ceiling for a minute, before rolling over to bury his face into his pillow, and then lets out the loudest scream he can muster up. What the hell. This was never supposed to happen to him. He only hopes he can get through the weekend, because right now, it feels like Monday is a year away, and not two days away. He’ll get through it. Hopefully.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And now, the rating changes. Please enjoy! :) 
> 
> Prompt - "Can I buy you a coffee?"

* * *

His alarm wakes him up at 6:00am on the dot, Charles instantly awake as his hand connects with the snooze button to make the awful noise stop. He’s been lying in bed for the past ten minutes, already awake, too excited to sleep any longer. It’s finally Monday, and tonight, he’s got a date with a person that he never dreamed he would ever be going out with. Getting out of bed, he turns his alarm off, and heads to the bathroom, to start his morning routine.

Saturday, and Sunday, had dragged by as if it had been the longest two days of the year. Every time he had looked at the clock, it seemed like only two minutes had passed. But, he got through the days somehow, since a new day has dawned. He hops into the shower, and goes over his plan for the day.

Work. Come home. Get ready for his date. Go on date. Death.

Rinsing his hair off, he looks in the mirror. Today is going to be a good day.

***

Today is not a good day.

Everything that can go wrong at his job does, and he has absolutely no control over it. The only thing he does have control over is telling Snake that he has to cancel, because he’s not sure how late he’s going to be at work. And  _that_  text proves to be even worse than trying to make Sunday go by faster. It’s frustrating, because if one thing had been caught, then this fallout would not have happened, but because of the lack of communication between teams, Charles is sitting at his desk at nine in the evening, wanting to pull all of his hair out. And the worst part is that Snake had been completely understanding, which makes him wonder if the man had actually wanted to go out with him in the first place.

“ _Don’t worry about it, Mr. Charles. Perhaps next time_.”

He looks at the text for the twentieth time, then rubs his eyes. His computer dings, alerting him that what he’s been waiting for is finally finished. He calls his boss, who praises him for finally getting things fixed, and then runs the patch to correct the headache he’s been dealing with for most of the day. When it’s finished, he calls his boss back, and informs him that he’ll be coming in late the following day, which is boss tells him to just take the day off, but be available by phone if necessary. Turning his computer off with a sigh, he looks at his phone. Almost midnight.  _Ugh_.

Getting into his car, he decides to go and see if Joker’s Circus is still open. Snake did say that his shop stays open late, so what’s the harm in seeing if the lights are still on? Turning on the radio, he pulls into traffic, and makes his way to the tattoo parlor. As he turns onto the street, he can see the neon lights are still on, and can see the ‘Open’ sign is still lit. He parks at a meter spot, just a few feet away from the front door, not bothering to feed it as it’s well after 8pm. Fixing his tie, he gets out of his car, and makes his way towards the shop.

Charles stands in front of the door, and watches all the lights turn off. “No,” he groans under his breath. The door pushes open, and his heart stops when he sees just the person he’s hoping to see. Clearing his throat, he speaks quietly, “Is your shop closed for the evening?”

“I’m afraid that it is.” Snake keeps his back turned, as he locks up the shop. “We’ll be open again tomorrow at 11am. Do come by then.”

“That’s good to know, except I was hoping to have something taken care of right now.” He attempts to keep his voice as even as possible.

Snake turns around to face him, a smile blossoming on his face. “Mr. Charles! What a surprise this is!”

“I had been hoping that you were still open, so I could come and see you.” He pushes his hand through his short bangs, trying not to show how nervous he is at the moment.

“Did you just leave work?” Snake asks.

“I did.” Charles looks down at his feet. “Can I buy you a coffee? I mean, as long as you don’t mind it being shitty diner coffee, since nothing else is open right now.”

The owner of Joker’s Circus smiles. “Mr. Charles, shitty diner coffee happens to be my favorite kind of coffee.”

“Liar.” He can’t help but laugh, looking back into his golden eyes. “But fine, if you’re up for some diner coffee, there’s one a few blocks down that we can go to. My car is right there,” he points at where he parked.

“You don’t want to hop on my motorcycle?” Snake teases him.

“Maybe another night.” He opens the passenger door for Snake. “You’ll just have to tolerate my road rage.”

“I think I can manage that.” Before getting into the car, Snake places his hand on top of Charles’, just resting over the top of the opened door. “I’m glad you decided to see if we were still open, Charles.” Snake flashes him a smile, as he gets into the car.

Growing weak in the knees, Charles closes the door for him. Getting into the car, he looks over at Snake. “Now, no judging me on my choice of music.” He turns the car on, classical music coming through the stereo speakers.

“I’m never one to judge.”

Charles wishes he could say the same, but he knows that’s not the truth. In fact, the man sitting next to him should not even be in his car if he were to judge someone by how they look. Even now, Snake has on those tight leather pants, boots resting mid-thigh, and a tight black and white vertical striped shirt covering his upper body. His eyes are lined with black eyeliner, and there seems to be lip gloss on his lips. He has on a black choker necklace, and two cuffs with raised studs on each wrist. And even still, Charles can’t help but find him extremely attractive, even though he’s never been this attracted to someone before.

“Charles, you might want to watch the road.” Snake says, shaking him out of his trance. “Stare at me when we get to the coffee shop.”

Facing forward, he grips the steering wheel a little tighter. “Sorry!”

“Don’t be. It’s quite flattering.”

The rest of the car ride is silent, the two listening to the third movement of Beethoven’s ‘Moonlight’ sonata. It finishes just as they pull up to the diner, which isn’t very crowded, given that it’s almost half past midnight, and most of society is in their bed, fast asleep. He turns off the car, waits for Snake to get out before opening his own door. He buttons his suit jacket, walking with Snake up to the door of the diner. He holds it open for him, the two heading inside together.

They get seated towards the back of the restaurant, allowing them to have a little bit of privacy. A waiter brings them both large cups of coffee, then lets them know he’ll be back in a bit to take their order. Both nod, then look at one another, Charles feeling his palms begin to sweat as he stares into Snake’s eyes.

“So, Mr. Charles. What sort of profession are you in that makes you cancel plans at the last minute, and has you at the office until almost midnight?” Snake asks, leaning back against the booth. “You’re not in the business of drugs, are you?”

He almost spits out his hot coffee, swallowing it with a grimace. “N-No! I’m a Software Engineer. Not a drug pusher. We had one wrong line of code, and that threw the entire project out of commission, so I had to sift through all the lines of code to find it, and then implement a patch so that it would work.”  

“Sounds… technical.” Snake takes a sip of his coffee. Charles notices that his nails seem to be freshly painted, no chips on any of them. He sees Snake flex his fingers, laying his hand down in front of him. “Do you like them?”

“Did you repaint them?” He asks, admiring his lithe fingers. “Because they didn’t look like that on Saturday.”

“Perhaps I got myself all put together for our canceled date, Mr. Charles.” There’s a hint of a smirk on Snake’s lips. “And one mustn’t have an awful manicure when trying to impress their date.”

No one had ever done something like that for him before. “Well, we’re having coffee now, so it hasn’t gone to waste.” He holds up his cup, and takes another sip, not bothering to hide the smile that’s now on his face.

“Shouldn’t you be getting to bed soon?” Their waiter comes over to their table, and refills their cups with fresh hot coffee.

“I’ve dealt with this shit all day, that my boss gave me tomorrow off, as long as I’m available by phone.” Charles hopes that he’s not dooming himself by saying that. “Do you need to get to bed soon?”

White hair covers one of his golden eyes, as Snake shakes his head. “My shop doesn’t open until 11. I generally don’t go to sleep until 3 or 4.”

“I know it’s not dinner, but would you like to go for a drive?” Charles feels his stomach twist, wondering what has possessed him to ask such a question, but it’s too late to take it back now.

Placing his elbows on the table, Snake leans towards him. “A drive sounds nice. I’m not that tired.”

“Neither am I.” Charles signals for the waiter, and pays for their cups of coffee.

They drive an hour outside of London, heading to the countryside. He switches the music to be a bit more peppy, to one of his favorite rock bands. Snake doesn’t seem to mind, and he can see him bobbing his head in time to the music during certain songs. They don’t talk too much, and Charles isn’t sure why. Did he give off the vibe that he didn’t like talking? Or, maybe Snake is just being polite, to not distract him. He drives to a lookout he hasn’t been to since his university days, and parks there. He turns off the car, but keeps the key in the ignition, hand going to the volume knob to turn the music down.

“It’s beautiful out here,” Snake says, looking out the window. “You’ve been here before?”

“I’ve never brought someone with me to this spot, if that’s what you’re asking,” Charles quickly says. “I used to come out here when I needed to think, because it was far enough from the city to allow my head to clear its thoughts.”

He reaches down the side of his seat, and pushes the button to make his seat recline. He uses his other hand to open the moonroof on his car. He hears Snake do the same, the two of them laying as flat as the chairs will allow them, both looking up at the clear night sky. He rests his hand on the center console, and feels Snake’s arm already resting there. He starts to move his hand away, but stops when Snake touches his hand. Their fingers intertwine, palms touching as Charles tries to keep his calm.

“So, I asked you what your job is. You know what I do,” Snake starts to speak in a quiet voice, maintaining the mood of reflection. “Is there something else you’d like to know about me?”

Charles has to bite his tongue to not shout out an immediate answer, and instead takes a moment to think what he wants to know most right now. “How many tattoos do you have on your body?”

“Eight.”

“Do you want more?”

A soft chuckle leaves Snake’s mouth. “Yes, of course. There’s nothing quite like the high you get naturally from getting inked. Would you ever get a tattoo, Mr. Charles?”

“No.” He shakes his head, even though deep inside of him, a very tiny part wants to say ‘yes’. He had been raised to fear them, that anyone that has a tattoo is someone bad, but here he is, with a man that owns a tattoo parlor that is anything  _but_  that. “Maybe.”

“What about a piercing? Would you think about doing that?”

“That seems more reasonable,” he nods his head.

“Why? Because the hole can close up if you take it out?”

Snake moves his hand away from his. Charles feels a wave of anxiety come over him, but it instantly vanishes when he feels the tips of Snake’s fingers start to touch the center of his palm. “No, it’s not that.”

“I’ll get you in my chair somehow, Mr. Charles,” Snake replies.

He can’t argue with that statement, because he has a feeling that the man is correct. “Have you always known you were gay?”

“I have. You?”

Turning to lay on his right side, he sees that Snake is already in a similar position. Their eyes meet, as he shakes his head. “I mean, maybe I did? I’ve had both male and female lovers.”

“Female, hmm? And, how’d that work out for you?” Golden eyes look at him, a hint of mirth in Snake’s voice.

Smirking, Charles gives a small shrug of his shoulders. “I mean, it wasn’t all that bad. But, I figured out what I liked because of them.”

“And just what do you enjoy?” The fingers that have been touching his palm stop, and instead intertwine with his fingers a second time. “No lying to me, Mr. Charles, because I will know if you are fibbing.”

A flush comes over his face, as he knows that Snake is right. He can’t help but be an open book with this man. “I like it when a man dominates me. Takes control, and fucks me hard.”

“Would you like for me to dominate you, Charles?”

The sound of just his first name makes his stomach dip pleasantly. Staring into his eyes, he says in a soft voice, “Yes.”

“What if I prefer to be underneath you?”

He licks his lips. “Then I guess I’ll have to get used to being the one in charge.”

Nothing is said for a few minutes, as the two of them look into each other’s eyes. Charles can feel his body trembling, wondering if it was the best idea to come out here. He hardly knows this man, but remembers that if he’s close with his best friend’s lover, then he can’t be all that bad. Fingertips press into the back of his hand, as Snake grips his hand a little tighter.

“Have you thought about me at all this weekend?”

Charles swallows audibly. “You’re all I’ve thought about since Friday night.”

“Since we kissed.”

“Since I saw you last.” He corrects him. “Even if we hadn’t kissed, you would have been on my mind.”

“And why is that?”

He stares into his eyes, drawn into his golden eyes. “I’ve never met someone like you before.”

“A tatted up, well to do business owner?”

“A man who is everything I can’t stand in a person, yet for some reason, I can’t help but be drawn to him.” Charles licks his lips, exposing his feelings to this man, for all intents and purposes, who is a stranger to him.

“Do you remember the flower I gave to you on the day we met?” Snake asks, not bothering to acknowledge what he’s just said.

“The rose? Yes? Why?”

“Do you remember the color, Mr. Charles?”

Nodding slowly, he replies, “Orange.”

“Are you aware that there is a language of flowers?”

Charles blinks a few times, before shaking his head. “No, I wasn’t aware there was such a thing. Does that mean you gave me orange for a reason? Not just because it was the closest rose you had on hand?”

“There was most definitely a reason.” Snake chuckle softly, the sound of his laugh sends a pleasant shiver through Charles’ body.

Looking into his eyes, he can feel himself leaning forward just a little bit. “Well? Are you going to tell me what the color means, or should I Google it?”

“I chose orange because it holds the meaning of three different things - desire, enthusiasm and passion. It also can be viewed as being fascinated by the giver.”

He tries to swallow, but isn’t quite able to. “Does that mean you desire me?”

Fingers dig into the back of his hand, nails creating a crescent shape on his skin, the two sitting in silence for a few minutes. “Let’s head back to the city.”

“Is it because of what I’d said earlier?” He asks, wishing that he could take back what he’d admitted to him about how Snake is everything he can’t stand, for he feels like he’s just ruined any chance he had at finding out more about this man. Especially after telling him why he’d given him the orange rose.

Snake has a playful smile on his lips. At least, that’s what Charles hopes it is, but who knows after what he’d just said. “It is, but not for the reason you’re thinking.”

“Oh?” Now that has him curious.

Snake lets go of his hand, wrapping it around his tie. Charles is pulled forward slow, until their faces are only a few millimeters apart. “I want to head back to the city, so that we can enjoy breakfast together.”

“But it’s only 2 in the morning,” Charles’ voice comes out barely above a whisper. “I don’t think anyone is serving breakfast just yet. Unless we go back to that diner.”

A forked tongue darts out of Snake’s mouth, making his bottom lip wet, Charles’ pants grow tighter at the sight. “I never said we’d be eating it now, Mr. Charles.”

His tie is pulled forward more, his lips coming into contact with Snake’s for a kiss. He groans low, his hand going to the back of Snake’s neck, as their lips part together, and their tongues connect. It feels just as good as it had on Friday night, if not more so, given their current setting. The hand on his tie tugs harder, making him lunge forward, his chest knocking into the center console, but he could care less. All he wants is to keep kissing Snake, to keep touching his tongue against the two tips of his forked tongue. The low moan Snake releases into his mouth when his tongue touches the actual split causes his head to spin.

The need to breathe ends their kiss, Snake releasing the hold he has on Charles’ tie. He reaches down, and touches the button to put his chair back into its normal position. “Am I taking you to your place, or mine?” He asks, buckling his seatbelt.

“Take me to your place, Charles.” Snake puts his seatbelt on.

“Okay.”

It takes only a fraction of the time for him to drive the two of them back into the city. It isn’t that he sped the entire way home, but that there had been hardly anyone on the road. Or, it could be because he was hauling ass the entire way back to West Brompton, but being safe about it. He pulls into the garage below the building where his flat is located, and pulls into his parking spot.

“My place is on the top floor,” Charles says, as they walk to the lift.

An arm slides underneath his arm, elbows hooking with Snake. “Top floor, hmm? Are you sure you’re not a drug dealer, Mr. Charles?”

“Yes.” He steps into the lift with him, and pushes the button for the top floor.

He unlocks the door to his flat, letting Snake enter first. “Nice place you’ve got yourself,” Snake looks around his living room. “You live alone?”

“I do.” Charles drops his keys into a wooden bowl that’s on top of a small table next to the door. “Would you like a tour?”

“Maybe later.” Snake sits down on his couch. “Got anything to drink? And, do you mind if I take off my boots? I promise that my feet do not smell.”

“Go right ahead. I’m going to go change. Do you want some sweats or something?” Charles starts to loosen his tie. “Pretty sure I’ve got some beer and wine in the fridge.”

“Sweats sound good, and so does the wine.” Snake starts to untie his laces.

“Got it. Be right back.” He heads into his bedroom, closing the door so that it’s just barely open. He hangs up his suit jacket, and pulls his slacks off, dumping them into the bag for the dry cleaners. He grabs a pair of plaid lounge pants, and pulls them on, staying in just his white undershirt. Reaching into his drawer, he pulls out an extra pair of sweats. He walks back out to the living room, and sees Snake’s boots are off, revealing quite a vivid pair of socks on his feet.

“You asked me not to judge you for listening to Beethoven, I will do the same for you in regards to my socks.” Snake looks up at him, the most adorable smile on his face.

Charles can feel his chest tighten, as he holds out the pair of sweats to his guest. “The bathroom is the first door on the left. I hope they’ll fit you.”

“I’m sure they’ll be fine, Mr. Charles.” Snake’s finger brushes against the back of his hand, as he grabs the sweats from his hand. “Be right back. How about you get us some wine, hmm?”

Snapping out of his daze, Charles goes into the kitchen. “Do you prefer white or red? I have both.”

“Red, please,” his guest says from the bathroom.

He pulls the cork out of the bottle he’d opened two nights ago, and pours them both a glass. Glancing at the time, he sees that it’s almost 4 in the morning, and he’s not even the slightest bit tired. He’s got more nervous energy than he knows what to deal with, and hopes that this glass of wine will help relax him, but he doubts it. Just being near Snake is putting him into a blind panic, but it feels good.

Picking up his remote, he turns on the telly, to see what’s on at this hour that no one should really ever be awake for. Snake walks back into the room, the striped shirt gone, only a black tank top on his upper body, matching the black sweats that Charles had given him. He looks at him, eyes drawn to the two snake tattoos that curl around both of his biceps - a ball python and a garden snake.

“How many snake tattoos do you have?” He asks, holding the glass of wine out to Snake, who takes a seat next to him on the couch.

Curling his feet under his body, Snake holds his glass up to him, the two clinking glasses together. “To new beginnings.” Both raise their glasses to their lips, and take a drink of wine. “I have seven, but to be honest, that’s not enough.”

“If you have seven snake tattoos, what’s the last tattoo of?”

Snake raises his glass up to his lips, and takes another sip of his wine. “Would you like me to tell you? Or would you like to guess?”

“Do you want the truth?”

“Always.”

“I want to see it for myself.”

The glass gets set down on the coffee table, Snake moving to rest his lower back against the arm of the couch. “Are you sure about that, Charles? Because I will need to pull my pants down to show you.”

“Show me.”

Charles can feel his heart beginning to race again. Why does he keep acting this way? It’s the lack of sleep. That has to be it. Snake stands up, and unties the drawstring, shimmying out of the sweats. He feels his mouth drop open, when he sees the black briefs hugging Snake’s arousal, Charles praying to whatever deity will listen to him to help save his soul. On Snake’s inner thigh, he sees a tattoo that does not resemble a snake, but what looks like a bunch of balloons.

“Balloons??” Even as he says the word, he still can’t believe what he’s seeing. “Do you really have balloons tattooed on your inner thigh?”

His finger reaches out to touch the raised skin, but stops. “You can touch it, Charles,” Snake’s voice is low.

“Why balloons?” He asks, the tip of his index finger brushing against the purple and red balloons. There is also a yellow balloon, and light green one, and an orange one.

He tries to ignore the heat he can feel radiating off of Snake’s arousal, his hand just centimeters away from it. “The artists at my shop decided that we all needed to have matching tattoos, so it was agreed upon that balloons would be the best to represent all of us.”

“That’s…. Pretty cool.” Charles nods his head, pulling his hand away. He stops when he feels Snake’s hand touch his. “Snake…?”

The fingers that had just been touching Snake’s inner thigh curl a little, as Snake places his hand over the mound of his cock. His silver eyes widen, as he looks up into golden eyes. “Do you not want to touch me, Charles?”

“I….” He closes his eyes, as his fingers start to touch Snake’s mound more.

Elastic snaps, the warm cotton against his fingers disappearing, his fingers now touching the heated skin of Snake’s cock. “It won’t bite you, Charles.” He can hear the arousal in Snake’s voice, which is causing him to question his sanity.

“D-Do you want to touch me too?” He looks up at him, his fingers wrapping around Snake’s girth.

Snake sits sideways on his lap, Charles keeping a firm grip on his cock. He groans low, as he feels cool fingers push down the front of his lounge pants, Snake’s fingers finding his stiffness without any complications. “Mmm…. Very nice, Charles…”

“Could say the same….nngh… about you…” He starts to pump his hand on Snake’s cock, glad to see that he doesn’t have any sort of piercings on his dick. He groans low, Snake giving him a rough jerk. “Nngh… F-Feels good like that.”

“I bet it does,” Snake speaks softly into his ear.

Stunned into silence, Charles moves his hand up and down, down and up, giving Snake’s girth a few squeezes in between. He rests his head against Snake’s shoulder, pumping his hand a little faster. He moans low, the familiar rush of his oncoming orgasm has him pumping Snake faster. The fist that’s wrapped around his own cock starts to jerk him off harder, thin fingers sliding down towards the base, Snake turning his hand so that his fingers brush against his sac. The back of his head hits the couch, as a loud moan tears through his throat, his orgasm hitting him hard. He feels Snake kissing his neck, low groans leaving his mouth as Charles keeps stroking him. Snake hisses, a rush of warmth coating his hand as Charles milks him of his orgasm. He shudders hard, their mouths coming together for a few soft kisses, prolonging their euphoria.

After a few moments, both release their grips on each other’s cocks, Charles grabbing a few tissues to hand them to Snake first, then grabs a few more for himself. They both clean their hands off, then wipe off their cocks, but there is no air of embarrassment between the two of them. In fact, it feels like this is the most natural thing to do, and that frightens Charles just a tiny bit. But, that fear is soon washed away, as Snake gives him another kiss, making him pitch forward to be closer to him.

“Now, I want you to know, Mr. Charles, that I do not just do this sort of thing on a first date.” Snake rests his head against the crook of his neck.

He smiles, a part of him wondering that exact thing, but too shy to ask. “The same goes for me.”

“I think the sun is going to rise soon. Would you like to watch it?” Snake asks, his warm breath against Charles’ neck makes him break out into goosebumps.

Charles nods. “We can see it from the window over there,” he points to the large window facing the east. “The sky is already changing colors.”

“It’s beautiful,” Snake whispers.

“So are you,” he replies, placing a soft kiss against Snake’s cheek. “Can we try for a proper date again? Maybe this weekend?”

Snake nods his head. “I would like that. How about you come to my place, and I’ll make us dinner.”

“Okay, Snake. That sounds wonderful.”

He moves them to lay on the couch, facing in such a way that they can both look at the sunrise. Snake lays on the bottom, Charles resting his head against his chest. He tries to keep his eyes open, but the events of the day finally catch up to him. After the glass of wine, and the most satisfying handjob ever, he’s about as relaxed as he’s ever been. He drifts to sleep with a smile on his face, happy that he’d taken the chance to see if Snake’s shop had still been open. If he hadn’t, this night would not have been as much fun as it had turned out.

***

“So, I’ll see you on Friday?” Charles asks, as Snake gets out of his car.

After falling asleep on the couch, the two had hung out, and just talked about everything and anything. They’d gone out to breakfast, continuing their conversation of getting to know more about one another. After they finished, it was close to 11, when Joker’s Circus is supposed to open. He offered to take Snake to work, who had agreed with a smile.

“Friday evening. 9. I’ve got a client scheduled for a session that begins at 6. We should be finished by 9, but if I’m running late-”

“I won’t be upset.” Charles interrupts him. “And if you need to cancel, like I did, I understand.”

Snake leans into the car. “I won’t do that, because unlike you, I don’t have that much responsibility.”

They kiss each other goodbye, Charles wishing that it could go on longer, but he knows that Snake needs to get to work. “Then, I’ll see you Friday night.”

“You’d better text me.” Snake waves, then heads to the front door of his shop. He gives Charles another wave before heading into the shop.

Charles leans back in the driver’s seat, and can’t keep the goofy smile off of his face. It’s Tuesday. Just two and half days more until he’ll get to see Snake again. That seems like a lifetime away, but he knows it’ll be here before he knows it. And  _that_  keeps a smile on his face for the remainder of the day.


End file.
